#surprised i managed anything rn since i'm so out of it

[ravinoforre]

Rn i'm half zombied on melatonin gummies and "time o' the month" brain fuzz so have some wind down doodles

[hyperfixatedbastard]

sweet, sweet silence

Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader

Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.

Word Count: 1.3k

WARNINGS: none!

A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)

Dividers

"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion. 

You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.

He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.

He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."

On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.

You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.

"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.

You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.

Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.

Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric. 

During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.

Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.

And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).

Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings. 

“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present. 

Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now. 

The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him. 

“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.

You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it. 

As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you’re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.

“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.

You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).

“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck. 

His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”

[nolita-fairytale]

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader 

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror. 

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this. 

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house. 

Or out of obligation. 

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him. 

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in. 

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber. 

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight. 

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while. 

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend. 

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything  – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win. 

You’re not sure how you know. 

You can just feel it. 

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her. 

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat. 

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop. 

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle. 

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left. 

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house. 

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention. 

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear. 

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close. 

~

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.” 

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on. 

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too. 

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass. 

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team. 

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’ 

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend. 

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more. 

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne. 

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne 

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly. 

“Anything for you,” you say back. 

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now. 

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks. 

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks. 

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make. 

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again. 

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice. 

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it. 

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest. 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink. 

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further. 

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made. 

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar. 

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch. 

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away. 

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly. 

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you. 

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable. 

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him. 

The bartender returns with your second drink finally. 

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you. 

What a fucking asshole. 

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough. 

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily. 

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him. 

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink. 

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air. 

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it. 

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with. 

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her. 

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy. 

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone. 

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it. 

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own. 

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly. 

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body. 

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject. 

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy. 

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales. 

Another release in pressure. 

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much. 

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him. 

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly. 

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his. 

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits. 

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him. 

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him. 

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life. 

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both. 

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now. 

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him. 

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar. 

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency. 

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind. 

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.” 

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney. 

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout. 

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you. 

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.  

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin. 

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief. 

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly. 

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage. 

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively. 

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate. 

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look. 

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues. 

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist. 

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time. 

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away. 

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone. 

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath. 

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table. 

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts. 

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact. 

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down. 

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere. 

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with. 

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived. 

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job. 

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?” 

You sigh, unsure of what to say. 

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall. 

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out. 

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off. 

He’s pissed. 

You can tell he’s pissed. 

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on. 

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil. 

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment. 

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours. 

Well this isn’t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours. 

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him. 

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline. 

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less. 

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away. 

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his. 

 “Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs. 

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week. 

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him. 

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties. 

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment. 

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace. 

You don’t look away. 

You don’t dare look away. 

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next. 

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door. 

We should stop. 

Do this elsewhere. 

Lock the door. 

Keep quiet. 

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this. 

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts. 

“I need you inside of me. Now.” 

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says. 

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing. 

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds. 

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane. 

Back out. 

Then back in. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts. 

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself. 

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you. 

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it. 

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror. 

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy. 

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

 “This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him. 

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge. 

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy. 

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again. 

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you. 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel. 

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh. 

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss. 

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’ 

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already. 

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter. 

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in. 

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat. 

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you. 

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away. 

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder. 

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder. 

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you. 

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry. 

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity. 

“Carm?” you ask. 

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened. 

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. 

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment. 

“Because he deserved it?” 

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

[staybabblingbaby]

Project: Stack The Deck CH. 1 (a3d1)

-

Concept: Reader is a long-time trainee at JYP Entertainment, on the verge of being dropped completely due to her age. In her first stroke of luck in ages, she's presented with an opportunity: JYPE is producing a brand new type of audition show - 9 lucky trainees will be 'interning' with 6 of JYPE's active groups for a year in hopes of forming the first ever mixed gender AND mixed subgender group in k-pop. The catch? The trainees are only interning with their exact opposite groups, in an effort to appease ongoing protests.

Or - Babble gives in and writes Omegaverse. But this time, there's ~lore~

-

Word Count: 1,893

Notes: I started this instead of working on SG I'm so sorry ^^;; My brain just doesn't wanna take anything serious rn I've been having a Time lmao I have, perhaps, thought about an inordinate amount of lore for this ^^;; It's ok I just tried to apply logic to Omegaverse nbd. I never liked the 'inner wolf' rhetoric so this is my attempt to fix that while keeping the instinct drivel i adore lol. While also keeping a more human level of 'intinct'. Also this isn't very edited, so keep that in mind. Also also this is super slow-burn and focused on pack-bonds first, so while we may get to romance and maybe smut eventually, it won't be for a really very long time Heavily inspired by To The 9th Degree by azaluvx7 on Ao3.

Warnings: Mention of house-fire, discussion of medical misinformation that leads to protests (also mentioned)

-

Sitting across from the director is always a nerve wracking experience, no matter how many times I’ve experienced it.

Kim Jae-Hwa was a severe omegan woman with dark hair and a fair complexion. As the director of Training and Development at JYPE she held the future of all of JYPE’s unrealized talent in her hands.

That did, of course, include my own.

Having been picked up and dropped from several line-ups over the years, none of those groups having come to fruition at all, she was someone I’d seen probably more than I’d have liked to. Seeing her face always filled me with a potent mixture of hope and dread, something she was uniquely positioned to tip the scales of.

Today we were, oddly enough, sat in the company’s cafeteria instead of the director’s office or the conference room she favored. Seeing as how the last time I'd been in one of those rooms it’d been to have a very honest and pragmatic conversation with several of the older trainees about our future within the company and our options outside of it, I couldn’t be mad at the change of scenery.

Several of my classes had become one-on-one tutoring sessions after that conversation.

So yeah, sitting in front of her was always more than enough to make you break out into a cold sweat and send my scent spiking along with my thundering heartbeat beneath carefully-applied scent blockers, no matter how nice she was.

And she was nice, pushing a steaming coffee across the table to me, warm smile gentling her features. She cared about the trainees here, truly. It’s why she organized meeting like the one that chased away a majority of your remaining friends in the first place. Always looking out for us, whether we liked it or not.

“I heard you’ve been skipping a few classes lately, that’s not like you.” She says after a moment, allowing me to sip the warm comfort of the familiar beverage before her interrogation.

“Ah,” I flinch a bit, curling into myself, “I had to get another job. My apartment burned down recently, so it’s just been a bit hard to make everything work out.”

She knows this already, of course. All of my trainers were aware, as well as the manager who oversaw the older trainees. Well, older trainee, now, really. Reports about the trainees crossed her desk regularly, and since I was the only one in my class right now there weren’t many for my details to get lost between.

As expected, she just nods along, tilting her head at me, not surprised in the least.

“Where are you staying now, may I ask?”

I shrink further into myself at her query, embarrassment flooding me. “Just a hotel right now, director.” I admit, head low, “The building wasn’t really salvageable, and I haven’t been able to find anything I can afford near enough to the company yet.”

Jae-Hwa just nods her elegant head, not rendering judgment. In fact, as I glance up at the older woman, there’s something almost calculating in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you apply for the trainee dorms? It sounds like you qualify for them.”

Squirming uncomfortably in my seat, I cast around for a reasonable answer. It wasn’t like I could tell her that I was intimidated by a bunch of teenagers. I mean, in turn they were also intimidated by my seniority and sway with the more sympathetic trainers, but, well. A few bad apples could spoil a bunch, and I’d always been an easy target for bullies.

Even if they couldn’t hurt me physically or professionally, words often had a way of getting under skin. Especially from people I’d rather be able to mentor and pamper.

“The kids get a bit uncomfortable with me already,” I settle on, letting my shoulders shrug sheepishly, body pulled along by the half-truth, “I don’t want to make it worse by intruding on their space.”

Jae-Hwa simply hums, considering me. She probably knew this too, honestly. The truth of it, even. There wasn’t much that went on in the practice rooms that she didn’t know about.

There also wasn’t much she could do if I didn’t stand up for myself, so I just offer her a strained smile, silently begging for this conversation to move forward.

Stars above, if this was a new way of gently encouraging me to pursue other career paths it might have been the most effective one yet. Fleeing the building sounded great right about now.

“Alright, I won’t push it, you know very well what resources we offer by now. Better than some of my staff even, I’d bet.” She says it in a lighthearted tone, clearly only meant to tease, but hot shame rips through me again anyways.

Seven years was a long time to train, and while it did come with some perks (like knowing the training program than some of the managers), it still meant that I hadn’t been good enough to debut. That despite the extra experience and training, I still wasn’t good enough.

“I actually had something of a proposal for you,” the director continues, unbothered by my bowed head, “You may not have heard since you’ve been out lately, but the board has proposed a project in hopes of appeasing those protests that have been happening.”

I grimace at the mention of the ongoing protests, the loud chanting of the crowd in front of the building ringing in my ears at just the mention of them.

“The ones about co-ed groups?” I clarify, as if there are any others.

She shares a tight-lipped commiserating smile with me and nods, “Yes, those protests,” she sighs.

Honestly, the whole movement was stupid, in your opinion. On the surface it was progressive, inclusive even. After all, encouraging more co-ed groups could lead to a great many positive changes for idols. Less scrutiny on interactions between male and female idols, or alphas and omegas. More leeway with the very intense media attention, a chance to be more care-free when hanging out with their friends.

Hell, it could even be good for society at large, showing progressive ideals in a very visible way. That is, if the goal of the movement had been so pure or noble.

No, the current rhetoric was an archaic bunch of bologna ripped from an out of context statistic from a very old and very biased study about Pack dynamics and their impact on one’s health.

To brush past the bullshit and flowery words of concern, they believed that a pack needed at least one person of every sub-gender present to keep a balance of hormones and instincts and remain healthy.

Never mind that the same study claimed that omegas needed to be locked up in their dens and nests like birds in a cage or that betas were only really good for filling in negative space despite their very intensively studied and very important roles in a pack.

Unfortunately, despite making about as much sense as a flat-earther, one viral post had made it into k-pop circles and triggered a cascade of hysterically ‘worried’ fans, who really just wanted a chance to join the packs of their favorite celebrities.

It was common knowledge that many idol groups ended up as pack, especially those that enjoyed success. JYPE as a company very specifically encouraged this, boasting an incredible matchmaking record with 10 out of 11 of groups they’d tried this with becoming pack, a further 3 of those packs even being romantic.

The issue was that, in direct contrast with this nonsensical ideal, most idol groups comprised themselves of only one primary and two sub genders, due to the marketability and fanservice of it all. An alpha group would only have alphas and betas, and vice versa for omega groups.

Hence the very loud protests outside the building, mostly comprised of delusional fans baying for a chance to meet their idols for said idol’s ‘health’.

Normally the company wouldn’t cave to something like this, simply issuing statements of good health or waiting for it to blow over, but even I had heard of the large-scale boycotts and blackouts among various fandoms. Loss of profit or image was something the company could not, unfortunately, ignore.

Still, I frown at the director.

“Is it really a good idea to give into them?” I ask, worried, “Won’t they just get bolder, then?”

The director grimaces in agreement, but shrugs her shoulders, “Your guess is as good as mine, kid. In the end, it’s up to the investors.”

I give my own grimace at this. Despite actively wanting and trying to participate in the industry, I was old enough for the rose-tinted glasses to have come off. I could be disgusted by how the industry operated while still wanting to be a part of it. I’m talented that way.

“Just hear me out about it before we start picking it apart,” Jae-Hwa gently pleads, “This could be a good opportunity for you.” something heavy and sorrowful clouds her eyes, her voice lowering as she admits, “This could be the last opportunity I can get for you.”

My heart lodges in my throat at her words, nausea swirling in my gut.

Jae-Hwa really did care for her trainees. A bit too much, even. Enough to be blunt with us about our chances to debut. It had been a few years since she’d looked at me with bright eyes and a cheerful, “This could be it! You’ve got the talent, kid, we’ve just gotta show it to the world!”

She might take the older trainees aside to gently break their hearts, but she never forced them out. I was just the last one stupid enough to stay.

“You’re 23 this year, y/n.” She says gently, grimly, softly taking my hands into hers across the table, “I can’t protect you forever. There’s no telling when we’ll get to put together another girl group. You’ve got the talent, kid, but this might be your last chance to show it.”

She’s right, of course. 23 is old for a trainee. Hell, younger idols should be hitting the peak of their careers at 23. Even if I left JYPE, there’s only a very infinitesimal chance I’d be picked up by another agency. There’s an even smaller chance that theoretical company could debut me.

I swallow uneasily and tighten my grip on the director’s hands. I give her a tiny nod to continue, fighting off the urge to cry.

“They’re putting together a reality show,” Jae-Hwa begins to explain, holding my gaze, “Where they’re going to have our top trainees ‘intern’” she releases one hand to air-quote the word, her eyes rolling despite herself. It makes me giggle, and by her small smile, that was her goal, “with one of our active groups for the duration of a comeback.”

I tilt my head questioningly at her, “What does that have to do with the protests?” I ask. So far it seemed like just an innovative audition show to me.

the director’s eyes reveal her unease, even as her face stays resolute. “The trainees will be put in a pool for the groups to choose from.” She continues to explain, seemingly ignoring my question, “But,” She hesitates, “They’re only going to allow the groups to choose completely opposite- gender trainees.

[lesbianjunimo]

period comfort, bloomic style

i'm about ten years late to this game but better late than never!! title says it all. i started writing this on my period but then it took me like a whole week to get done with it so i'm not even on it anymore LMAO. oh well

these are written with gender neutral reader in mind, tho they do have a uterus for the sake of the prompt lol. i also use the username lovelylola for them, for simplicity's sake. i imagine these as taking place after the events of the bulk of the story, but before you guys meet in person. i may make a follow-up of what they do when y'all finally live together if i feel inspired enough haha

Quest:

lovelylola: i know i said i was going to bed early to sleep it off but it hurts so bad lovelylola: can we have our usual call after all? Quest: of course, angel <3

He hated the fact you were in pain, but he also couldn't help but feel honored that you felt comfortable sharing your pain with him, going to him when you were hurting. It felt so good to be trusted like that, especially by you.

When you joined voice, Quest almost choked on the water he was drinking. You were so. Fucking. Cute.

There you were, curled on your side in bed, wrapped in blankets, smiling through a pained grimace. Your eyes lit up at the sight of him. "Hey, handsome."

"Hey, angel," he replied softly. Immediately, his caretaker tendencies took over. "Are you drinking water?" A nod on your end. "Did you take any medicine?" "Yeah, but I think we can officially cross Aleve out of the running, too; it isn't helping anymore." You winced and curled in on yourself, a cramp shooting through your lower belly, almost as if your body was bragging about the way it resisted your attempts at easing the pain.

Obviously this was something you'd learned to deal with, and it was natural, you weren't in any danger...but Quest still couldn't help but feel like he was letting you down somehow. Damn, he wished he could be there with you now. He so desperately wanted to take care of you. It's what you deserved.

"Is there anything else to try?" He asked. "Mmm, I have my period demon." "...Your what?" You laughed as he arched his eyebrow in confusion and lifted his water for a sip. To Quest's surprise, you pulled the blankets from your body and angled your phone camera down to your midsection. This time, he did choke a little. He managed to mute his microphone just in time to hide it from you. With your phone angled the way it was, you couldn't see the way his face reddened slightly, or the way his eyes wandered. He took in the loose top draped over your body, the way it rode up slightly and exposed a bit of your stomach. And those sweatpants resting low on your hips...you were so damn beautiful. He was the luckiest man alive for you to feel this comfortable with him.

"Anyway, his name is Gengar, because when I opened him up on Christmas and saw his face I thought it was a gengar plushie at first. Cute, isn't he?" Quest snapped back to reality. He had heard you speaking the whole time, and not fully processed it until now, but he was catching up now that he was done...admiring. Sure, that word fits well enough. He realized what you had angled your camera down for was to show him the heated, lower-belly pillow with a sewn-on face and little horns. Ah; this must be the period demon.

You angled the camera back up to your face, a content smile on it from the memories you had just shared with him. Your shirt had slid down off one of your shoulders, and some bedhead was definitely already forming from your time spent tossing turning. Quest cleared his throat.

"Yes. Very cute, angel."

Xyx:

lovelylola: hey not to be a bother but lovelylola: would love to hear your sexy accent rn <3 lovelylola: to ease my unceasing suffering (my period cramps) xyx: rip xyx: as you wish

"That was the easiest time I've had getting you into a call since we met, I'm pretty sure," you said when he joined you in voice chat. "Oh, so now I can't be nice to my doll when they're enduring 'unceasing suffering?'" He rested his chin in his hand, his usual smug yet fond grin appearing. "That is not what I meant and you know it."

The two of you both laughed. You often closed your eyes when you laughed, and Xyx took the opportunity to get a good look at you while you weren't able to see his lovesick eyes - he could never hide the love in his eyes from you, even when he was doing his best to guard his heart when you first met.

You were on your side, in bed. It occurred to him he'd never seen you anywhere but in the chair at your desk. And you'd never seen him anywhere but in the chair at his desk. ...He hid a wobbly smile behind his hand when the thought came to him that he didn't mind this view. He could get used to it, even. The only way it could've been better was if he was actually there, could reach out and pull you to him...

Your laughing fit was interrupted suddenly when you groaned in pain and curled in on yourself. "Don't - don't make me laugh, Xyx," your eyes were open again, gazing at him with a weary smile. "It hurts."

Laughing hurts, hm? He couldn't help but be reminded of when you first made him laugh on a tough day; you told him you were terrible at tongue twisters, but he still hadn't expected you to be that bad. Or that cute. The laughter both helped and hurt him, that day; helped because he needed it, and hurt because it made him realize he was falling again...and that was a painful thought, at first. It was before he knew you'd treat him, and his heart, and his mess, with all the sweetness in the world.

"Oof, that's going to be tough restriction, doll. No making you laugh? Not even when it sounds so lovely?~" You grinned and giggled, hiding the lower half of your face beneath your sheets.

"Is a giggle like that off limits, too?" He continued. "What about a nice chuckle? Maybe even a snicker?" You snorted, your eyes closing in glee yet again. Xyx watched, eye full of both smugness and adoration.

"Mmm...I think I can allow those. None of them seem to make my cramps worse. They do make my cheeks hurt from smiling, though," you said. "That tends to happen a lot when you're around." You smiled at Xyx tenderly, and he offered an equally soft one back...for a few seconds. Then came the grin.

"Are you saying I always leave you sore, love?~" "Haha, stop, you'll make me cramp!!"

Nakedtoaster:

nakedtoaster: ffxiv? lovelylola: nnn...not tonight. cramping nakedtoaster: understandable lovelylola: can we still call, though? hearing your voice would be a balm to my aching uterus <3 nakedtoaster: ...don't ever write those words in that order again nakedtoaster: but yes. I'll be in voice lovelylola: <3333

"I take it saying your voice will sooth my sore womb is not your favorite way for me to call your voice sexy?" Those were really the first words out of your mouth when you entered the call, yes. Toaster's cheeks turned red, and they frowned in that adorable way they always did. "You could say that," he huffed. You laughed. At that sound, all the grumpiness from your teasing left him in an instant and a soft smile appeared on his face instead.

"Are you holding up okay?" They briefly glanced away from their screen and looked at you, on your side in bed. "You look cozy, at least." "I'm definitely cozy now that you're here to keep me company." "You-!" Toaster squirmed in their seat, pulling their microphone closer. You smiled brightly, affection sparkling in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just...you're so cute, Toaster. Teasing you a little helps me forget that my guts are trying to kill me." You propped yourself up on your elbow as you spoke. "I'd hardly call that only teasing me a little," your boyfriend mumbled. You snorted. "Okay, maybe a lot." You winced before you could continue. Toaster frowned, this time out of concern.

They turned away from their gaming monitor. "Even teasing me a lot doesn't make it go away, though, huh?" "No, unfortunately," you grimaced, sitting up. "But don't worry your pretty pink-haired head about it, yeah? I'm gonna go downstairs and heat up a water bottle. Don't miss me too much.~" Toaster rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh at your parting remark. Once you were out of both eye and earshot, he got to work.

Minimizing FFXIV, for just a moment, he started searching. They reasoned that, since you were using a water bottle as a heating pad/pillow, you must not have had one. And what kind of boyfriend would they be if they didn't remedy that as soon as possible?

When you clambered back into bed and came back into frame, heated water bottle in hand, Toaster had a smile on his face. "Wow, is it that fun when I'm not around?" They scoffed at you while you giggled. "You don't have a heating pad or pillow, do you?" He asked you. You shook your head. "Nope. I gotta get myself one of those cute heatable stuffies; you know, the ones shaped like animals? Those are adorable."

"That's what I thought," Toaster smiled to himself. You watched him move his mouse around, clicking on a few things, before opening FFXIV back up. They looked at you before they started playing again.

"I wouldn't worry about getting yourself one of those anymore; you've got about three different ones on the way."

Nightowl:

lovelylola: pspspspspsps nightowl: :3 ? lovelylola: hi <3 can we call? i'm having a uterus moment (tm) nightowl: askdhskdfhs nightowl: anything for my cutie!! (`･ω･)ゞ (i'm using this in place of that one salute emoji they use on the bloomic server LOL)

Nightowl looked at you with gentle eyes when you joined him in vc. You knew when you asked that he'd call you as soon as possible, but you hadn't expected him to be in voice before you could even crawl into bed! Honestly, in restrospect, you weren't sure why you were surprised.

"How you are you doing over there, cutie?" He asked, unable to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you snuggled up under your covers. "Mmm...not great. But seeing and hearing you helps." You watched as his face lit up. "Awwww, you mean it?" "Mmmmmhm! You're my painkiller tonight."

Nightowl let out a laugh and smiled widely. "Happy to help. What can I do?" "Just talking to me like this is enough. Ramble to me about architecture? I love hearing you talk about your passions." You watched as your boyfriend's happy smile melted into a lovestruck one right before your eyes.

"You...you make me so happy, cutie. Really." There was a brief pause where neither of you dared speak. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

And indeed he did. He talked about his favorite style of architecture for a good while. He asked you yours, to which you said ancient Greek because 'adding all those columns was a sexy design choice,' which made him almost fall backwards on his bed laughing. Once he could stop giggling, he taught you the types of Greek columns.

"Okay, now that you know what they're called, which style is your favorite?" He asked. "Corinthian, for sure. They went all out on those." He chuckled a little, but before he could respond, you were hit with a wave of pain. You curled in one yourself for a moment, letting out a small groan.

"You okay?" The worried voice of your boyfriend came from your phone. You offered him a weak smile. "Yeah. I just...I wish you were here, nightowl."

"I wish I was there, too, cutie," he responded immediately. He leaned closer to his computer as he continued speaking, seemingly not even realizing it. "I wish I was there so I could get you that ice cream you like and bring it to you in bed, and heat up your water bottle for you whenever it stopped helping, and give you my hand to squeeze when the cramps get bad. And so we could cuddle. Shit, do I want to cuddle you so bad." By the end of his little declaration, you had hidden your face in your patterned sheets, your face bright red. "Nightowl..." you murmured, voice muffled ever so slightly behind cotton.

"Holy shit," he said softly. "...What?" You lowered your sheets down to just below your eyes. "Even your sheets are fucking adorable."

[141trash]

rating: sfw (brief mentions of sex, but no graphic anything)

Captain John Price x Reader

AN: Somehow this ended up with very little actual Price in it, but I have plans and he will be more prominent. I just have word vomit rn and needed to get everything down

imagine having a one time fling with Price after your husband leaves you for another one because you just can't seem to get pregnant and he wants a family.

It was a good romp, he was a bit gruff, but was super sweet afterwards with the aftercare. he even stayed to buy you breakfast the next morning. Months later you've been focused on yourself, getting your life together and learning what it means to move on.

Only you've been feeling rather ill the last couple days. And then you remember you're late. Which isn't entirely unusual, sometimes you miss a period when you're stressed and the last couple months finding your feet have been stressful. Still you go to the doctors and its there you remember your night with Price, definitely can't remember if he used a condom or not, and you know you hadn't been on birth control since previously you'd been trying for a baby.

Oops you're pregnant.

The timeline fits that it's his and not your now ex-husband's and part of you is instantly hugely relieved about that.

You leave the doctor's office in a bit of a daze. It doesn't sink in until you're stumbling your way into the cafe you own/manage and you promptly dissolve into a fit of tears in the backroom, much to your teeny bopper part timer's utter horror.

Pregnant. You're fucking pregnant. You're elated, over the moon because you had always wanted kids. (yeah adoption's a thing, but in some places its really hard to adopt if you're single and you weren't ready for another relationship after the last trainwreck). You're also fucking terrified because holy shit you have no plan. Nothing is ready. You live in a tiny flat in the city with one bedroom because why would you need more than that?

Your friend appears in the back room as your mind is going a million miles a minute, turns out your part timer had panicked and called her. You breakdown again in her arms and tell her the news. She reminds you that you're not alone even though you're not in a relationship and that you will have all the support that you need.

With her help you start to prepare for the baby. Things move quickly, you're so busy getting things ready, searching for a larger flat, buying things, filling your head with every single bit of parenting knowledge you can get your head on. All your regular customers say that you're glowing, they've never seen you happier.

You've recorded every little thing since finding out you were pregnant. kept print outs of every scan. More than once you find yourself staring out the window, guiltily wondering about whether or not Price would have wanted to know. Not that you have any way of contacting him. You knew he was military, from the dog tags he'd had hanging around his neck, but not much more.

The first time you feel the baby kicking is when you're in the middle of a shift. Its the slow time of day so you're cleaning up the tables when you gasp suddenly. The girl behind the counter is by your side in an instant, babbling questions making sure you're okay. She's sweet and like your friend has been beside you since you found out.

"I'm fine Cally. The baby kicked." you announce, beaming brightly. She squeals and begs to be allowed to feel next time the baby kicks. Before you can do more the bell above the door dings and you both automatically turn, your customer service smiles back on. Only.

"John?" Your mouth drops open in surprise. Standing there looking oddly sheepish is the man you hadn't thought you'd ever see again. The man whose baby was currently kicking as if demanding your attention.

His eyes sweep over you appreciatively, though when he sees your obvious pregnancy he freezes. The shock of seeing him makes your legs weak. Cally lets out a panicked yelp when you knees buckle, but he's already darting forward, catching your arms gently and helping you to a seat.

"Careful there sweetheart." he says and god does that warm your chest. You remember the last time you heard him say that, it had been when you'd bumped into him in the bar.

"What are you doing here?" you ask breathlessly as Cally scurries off to get you a drink and he glances at you for permission before pulling a chair up next to you.

"Remembered you talking about your dream of opening a café. When i got back to town I spotted the name nd wondered if it was just a coincidence." he tells you, but you can see his eyes keep drifting towards your stomach. He's obviously trying to figure out if its his. But it takes a moment for you to respond because you can't believe that he remembered that. It'd been an offhanded comment you'd made while the two of you had been enjoying late night takeout before going at it another round.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you put a hand over his, biting your lip, "Listen. I. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything. I would have told you sooner only I didn't have any way to contact you."

"It's mine." he says for you. You nod, cursing inwardly when tears start to sting your eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Like I said. I'm doing fine. I don't expect anything from you. I've got a plan. I'm looking for bigger flats."

He stares at you in silence, expression unreadable. You worry for a minute about what he's going to say. You've been prone to overthinking everything since becoming pregnant and now suddenly having the father of your child reappearing in your life. It's a lot.

John squeezes your hand gently halting the panic as you look back up at him.

"I would very much like to be able to meet the kid when they get here. If you'd let me." he tells you hesitantly, "Being in the Military I don't know how often I'd be able to be around, but if you let me I'd like to be in their life."

All of your emotions flood you like a tidal wave at his confession. You burst into tears, letting him pull you into a firm, but careful hug.

"Yes. Of course. I just didn't want you to feel like I was pressuring you. You have every right to know them too." You promise tearfully, smiling at him as he thumbs the tears from your cheeks.

He insists on exchanging numbers so he can contact you and in case you need anything. He won't always be able to answer, but he promises to do his best. Then he bashfully asks if you'll tell him about what's happened so far. Shyly you tell him you've written the entire experience and kept the scans.

He eventually leaves you to get back to work, but the copy of the ultrasound photos you kept in your wallet is tucked into his jacket pocket and he promised to meet you at your flat for dinner and to collect your pregnancy journal so he can catch up on everything.

[ouiouimochi]

happy super belated birthday to bbgurl abyss ( I deffo didn't just learn it and decided to write rn-)

I've had this prompt in my brain for a while so at least hey it's gonna be out now

warnings: a bit long (would need part 2), not fully proofread, and poopy writing. a bit messy. not everything I put in here is canon compliant since there's a lot of things I'm unsure of, like if he was born into only a normal commoner household or what— for the sake of plot, he's from a noble family

apologies in advance since it's been a very long while since I last wrote anything past prompts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

synopsis : you met abyss at a masquerade ball after a small stunt you pulled and basically dragged him into it. so you promise to make it up to him the next time you meet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• abyss was wondering why his parents decided to drag him to a masquerade ball for high society all of a sudden when they don't even treat him as normal person at all

• they reasoned that they have to keep up with appearances of being a harmonious family even after how they treated him all this time

• they also strictly instructed— more of commanded— that he never take his mask of in fear that people would judge and criticize their family

• so here he was, in a completely unfamiliar environment

• despite being surrounded by people who wore masks like himself, he felt out of place

• not belonging in the event, never in society

• that's why he's alone in the peaceful back garden of the venue, basking under the blanket of stars as the bustle can be faintly heard in the background

• the boy walks around near the balcony of where the ballroom was, hoping to witness a semblance of lost belonging from hearing and observing the event from a distance

• clicking of heels quickly approached the end of the balcony overlooking the garden

• “my lady, please cooperate just this once!!” a panicked and exhausted voice of an adult exclaimed from the further side of the terrace from abyss

• “bleh!”

• it happened so fast that abyss barely reacted in time

• he never expected that the owner of the heeled footsteps earlier would recklessly jump down from the balcony

• while the girl was mid air, the two made eye contact— well it was obvious they were looking at each other even with their masks on

Surprise was evident on both of your countenances— your and abyss’ masks doing nothing to hide it. You actually had a spell prepared to smoothen your landing but you really didn't expect your escape route to have a person, so you kind of just forgot about the spell. Before both of you knew it, you directly flew— well landed on the poor boy as he barely managed to at least catch you before you both can get seriously hurt.

However, due to the abruptness, Abyss loses balance and you both land on the floor as the boy groans in pain.

“My lady!!!!” The same voice from earlier cries as footsteps quickly approached the railings of the balcony.

You panicked a bit at that and swiftly pulled the blue haired boy into the thick shrubbery

Abyss was a bit startled, almost releasing a yelp but you immediately covered his mouth up just in time. Right above where you two were hidden, your attendant cries to herself— muttering something about being dead meat if your father finds out.

Then the sounds of hurried footsteps faded away from your earshot, your attendant leaving to search for you, opting for a safer route.

You let a few seconds pass by before allowing yourself to conclude that the coast was clear. Releasing the unknowingly tight grip you had on the poor light blue haired boy’s mouth.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Feeling a sense of accomplishment from a successful(?) escape once again.

You face the unsuspecting victim of your little stunt, quickly making an observation. He was quite tall and lean with long, light-blue hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Your eyes then quickly scan his face and immediately mentally comment on how pretty he is. He also seemed to be around your age.

He looked stunned— understandably so. Who in their right mind would jump off the second floor balcony just like that and pull a random bystander to hide with them?

Apparently, you would. Maybe not even in the right mind.

You laugh a bit, finding the situation a bit funny in the moment. You did feel bad for accidentally dragging him into your shenanigans though.

Picking up the fallen objects on the ground before standing up, you then offer the boy a hand which he wordlessly accepts as he stands up as well. Both of you dust yourselves off.

You were running out of time, so you also had to make the interaction quick.

You belatedly introduce yourself like how nobility would as he returned the greeting with his own name as well— albeit barely managing to stammer it out.

“Abyss, huh? I'd really want to apologize for dragging you into this since I only acted on impulse. You must have been surprised.”

Surprise was a huge understatement, to say the least, but Abyss nodded. It was the best he could do, having no experience interacting with people other than his parents, much less a girl.

You bring out a pocket watch and bit your lip upon checking the time. You really had to leave if you wanted to catch up to the auction being held nearby.

You look at Abyss, “I'd like to apologize once again, but I really have to leave. I promise to make it up to the next time we meet.”

You quickly hand him his mask that you picked up earlier from the ground then pulled out a cloak seemingly from nowhere. You then summoned a portal big enough for yourself from the ground.

You turn back to the light-blue haired boy as you put the cloak on, “‘til next time, pretty boy!” before jumping into the portal you made. It disappeared the moment the top of your hood got inside.

Meanwhile, the silence and isolation might've been serving Abyss better than earlier as he was completely red in the face.

First, he was angry at himself for having his ugly feature be seen by a noble lady due to him not noticing that his mask fell off. Then next, she hurries in leaving and complimented him— making him embarrassed. Lastly, he realises it's the first time someone directly saw his cursed Evil Eye and not even as much as bat an eye or comment on it.

He went through multiple emotions in such a short while that he was having whiplash.

Abyss didn't hate the experience at all. If anything, he might've been holding on to the hope that they'd meet someday and he can have someone who'll treat him like a normal person.

He stared at the mask in his hands before looking up at the sky, wanting for his hope and wish to come true even if it would take a while. He'd be willing to wait for that moment to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 - Part 3

[o0anapher0o]

WIP Wednesday

Little snippet for a 5x09 coda because I'm on a let characters be friends trip rn

Carlos waited until they were getting ready to leave before approaching Ashley Campbell again. Her look was still icy, but she stepped aside to speak to him which he decided to take as a win for now.

"I owe you an apology, too," he said quietly. "I did what I thought was right, but I wish I had put things together sooner."

"You would have if you had trusted Sam," she pointed out coolly.

"Maybe," he acquiesced. "Unfortunately I had a lot of reasons not to trust him, but I should have been more thorough before trying to arrest him."

"You should have," she agreed.

Carlos was ready to make his retreat at this point. He had made his apology and if she refused to accept it that was her right and he had to accept that.

"I am sorry, for whatever that’s worth to you," he reiterated just to make that absolutely clear. He was just about to excuse himself when a loud voice cut through the noise of the children nearby.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed, Carlos?"

A moment later there was a familiar hand on his arm and the comforting shape of his husband next to him.

"You’re not supposed to be up, baby," TK said, a lot more quietly now, "You just got shot." He managed to sound both worried and chiding at the same time.

"Tk, this is Ashley Campbell," Carlos introduced them. "Mrs Campbell,  this is my husband, TK Strand."

TK’s face immediately lit up and he held the hand, not currently on Carlos, out to her. "Mrs Campbell, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you."

"You have?" she sounded surprised, but took the offered hand with a pleased expression.

"I’ve heard that you have the patience of a Saint when it comes to your husband and his work," TK explained, thankfully refraining from any more details of the conversation they had when Carlos had told him about Sam and his standardised bouquets. Neither of them had been overly impressed with that.

"Maybe you can give me some advice on how to not strangle them every once in a while."

Mrs Campbell laughed. "It’s harder than you’d think," she told him. With another cool look at Carlos she added: "Not being arrested by your husband’s partner certainly helps."

TK’s split second of hesitation was really only noticeable if you knew him as well as Carlos did. Mrs Campbell certainly wouldn’t have. 

"Oh, I’ve learnt my lesson on no exceptions for family before we’d even been together for a year," he said lightly. "His dad arrested my dad," he explained, "and this one did nothing, but defend Gabriel, implying my dad was a criminal. I was so and at him."

"You tried to punch me," Carlos remembered. Now with nearly three years hindsight he remembered the event almost fondly. It had been their second big fight, after the one about him telling his parents.

"I did not, even though you would have deserved it," TK argued.

"You must love him a lot to forgive him for that," Mrs Campbell said.

The look TK gave Carlos was so full of love it momentarily took Carlos breath away. He hadn’t seen that look since TK’s birthday party he realised and even before that it had become more rare than ge would have liked.

"I do, he said," without breaking eye contact, "more than almost anything. Besides," he suddenly turned back to Mrs Campbell,  "it turned out the whole thing was a sting operation and my dad was never actually arrested and then the same night our house burnt down, so there were kinda other things to worry about."

[leeny-leens]

using this blog as my personal notes app for my writing is so fun anyways heres more to the socmed AU so I don't forget Abt it later

it's a Barty X Reader story BCS he's my recent obsession and very obv it's a modern AU, no magic etc etc the whole works y'all

(yes this is a reader AU sue me I love writing self insert)

Reader - content creator ™️, makes diff kind of content but it's mainly art and video/photography centric, she studied film and cinema but then realized that uni and higher education ™️ in general wasn't her thing, tried a million diff majors until she finally dropped out and started free lancing and realized she quite likes this way of living

Barty - aka BCJR, singer who dropped out of law school like 2 years in and decided to pursue music instead BCS he figured it'll piss his dad off before he realized he actually loves making music

Remus - wrote a book called "Let the Moon speak Tonight" and has literally never done anything else writing wise since, doesn't plan on it either but the book got really popular and thus he's become known as this one guy ™️, he studied English lit and works in a bookshop

Peter - he studies sth with geography or zoology maybe?? or sth with plants?? anyways he's a plant dad ™️ and loves animals so he has a YT channel as well as social accs dedicated to his hobbies, it's surprisingly popular with a bunch of people and they always tend to say he has a soothing sense of humour and a nice voice (also he's constantly doing random ass side quests and people in his comment section will always be like wait isn't this the guy who did/attended/participated/hosted xyz and his friends are like Pete wtaf when did you do that???)

Mary - she runs a jewelry account and a lot of times you'll see her collaborating with a bunch of brands and fashion content creators to bring out THE best looks ever, surprisingly to literally everyone though fashion isn't her main interest or sth she studied it's just a hobby, everyone is always surprised when they find out she is a nursing student and somehow has time to still keep her page running though she often shrugs it off with the explanation that it's not a chore for her but a way to unwind

Lily - food blogger, she gets invited to a shit ton of events and has a knack for connecting with people, she wanted to be a teacher before she got totally burnt out in uni and decided to just try things out to see where life takes her

Marlene - I'm undecided on this but I think she studied business because of her family before realizing it wasn't really sth for her so she ended up switching to sth with dance! she now runs a successful dancing centric acc and you often see her and James in each other's videos

James - he's an athlete, I wanna say soccer? or maybe a swimmer??? but anyways he had a scholarship in college and is currently training to go for nationals and then hopefully the Olympics, he runs a v Basic but fun sports acc, some people would straight up say he's a sports influencer but he just likes sharing his journey and helping others understand their own bodies

Sirius - an actor who started out as a child actor, pushed into the industry by his family; it took a toll on his mental and physical health to an extreme extent until he ran away at 15 and retired from filming; made a comeback of his own when he was 19 and the people love him

Regulus - model, pushed into the industry by his family ever since he was young; it took a toll on his health until he managed to cut ties with them when he was in his early 20s (he's still in his early to mid 20s but shh)

Evan - originally he studied forensic science, then he switched to bio chem but got bored really quick and just started doing fuck not, he models with Reg occasionally or sings with Barty and rn he's just vibing trying to figure out what the fuck life is even about

Pandora - she studied psychology and is a really big mental health advocate, originally she wanted to be a therapist but now she's on track to become a social worker, she has 2 accounts that she runs one of them being mental health related and has a lot of advocacy and charity things while the other is more personal and focuses on her beliefs and her more or less witchy plant girl life style, her and Peter often make videos together

Dorcas - she studied polisci no I don't take any criticism on this <3 your girl wants to make changes because she saw how the world treated her single mother and she's having none of that, she's always posting and talking about social justice issues, feminism, advocacy and she's doing all of that in style while defying the expectations of what a 'serious' woman should look and act like

I'm thinking of combining socmed and written chapters for this AU, simply because I like the mix and think it'll be the most efficient to bring along the story!

There's gonna be a few plot points I want to cover

I have so many more thoughts and I'm so excited to share them with you guys <33

[sharkboywrites]

Can I request Azul and anyone you'd like with an ftm reader who's insecure about their size (Larger thighs & chest), so he uses them as a pillow? Love your writing<33

Azul With a Plus Sized Ftm S/O

A/N: Hiii I'm super happy to write this bcs I'm on the chubbier side and I do get a bit insecure about it sometimes but I'm working on it lol. Just a quick notice, hockey season is starting up again and since I'm on a varsity team (aka a team that takes up a of time) I may not be able to post very consistently, but I'll try my best

Ftm reader, chubby reader, mentions of insecurity

Insecurity about weight can be a hard thing, but if anyone understands what it's like, it's Azul

Azul has had his own struggles with his appearance, especially wight

He was bullied a lot for it during his childhood in the coral sea, and he still has issues with it to this day

Even though he has issues with his own appearance, he can't really see other people the same way

So when he saw you, you're weight wasn't something that he found unattractive

In fact, he found himself a bit flustered

He wasn't quite fond of his own body type before, but he was surprised to find that he found it nice on others

As the two of you grew closer, he never once made a comment about your appearance, and it was very refreshing as the two bonded over your shared insecurities, but both reassured each other

It stayed the same once the two of you had officially started dating, but it felt like there was a bit more understanding

If Azul ever managed to catch you on an off day, he'd do his best to comfort you

He'd quite literally do anything you want, he has the money for it after all

If it's being extra stubborn that day, then you're getting used as a pillow

You're thighs are a must, he loves them

He'd lay on your lap and you'd stroke his hair as the both of you talked about your days

If you're feeling dysphoric, he won't lay on your chest

He always asks for permission when it comes to that area

if you say yes though, you're absolutely getting used as a pillow, no exceptions

Speaking of which he will also buy you a binder

Some may not work well for people who aren't skinny, so he makes sure he gets you the best and safest brand

And multiple too, so you don't have to worry about only having one

You've also helped him out a lot

Thanks to you, he's become a lot more comfortable with his body and became less obsessive with things like calories

Although he is on top of being healthy and makes sure you are to, he just has a better relationship now

Although the both of you may have you're struggles, you work together to build each other up and be happier with your appearance

I have a different writing in the works rn, it's a bit of an experiment so I'm gonna see the feedback from it once it's posted, ty for reading and have a nice day :)

[lunarleonardo]

I'm working on a drawing rn so I needed the height reference. Kokichi is 5'2", Shuichi is 5'7", and tsumugi is 5'9". Do you know how funny it is that tsumugi managed to sneak in there and convinced shuichi she was kokichi. I know he's drugged and she's the ultimate cosplayer but it's so funny, he's little red riding hood to me.

"My Angel, what a high voice you have." "The better to great you with." "What blue eyes you have." "The better to see you with." "Goodness, look at how tall you are." "The better to help carry you out of here with okay. shhhhh now, don't want them to notice right?" "okay <3 yay <3"

Can't wait for her to see how broken he is even without drugs since she wasn't there for the aftermath. (^^)

- @blorboindulgence

in my crossover fangan thingy, kokichi is 4'9. I keep forgetting he's canonically 5'2 so I get surprised every time I'm reminded of that fact. I'm going to drop an anvil on his head

But yeah, I was thinking about that while I was writing, and I have been laughing about it ever since. He stood up from his bed. Even if he was slouched, he wouldve been taller than Kokichi. And he just... didn't think anything of it. Even when he had his ass planted in that wheelchair and looking UP at her, he was like "Yeah. That's Angel. Nothing strange going on here." worlds smartest man everybody

[karliahs]

i'm watching season 6, jaku fight, and i must. Scream

literally i told myself i was just gonna watch a couple of eps while i had dinner and folded laundry and now it has been. multiple hours. i'm so hype i may pass away. this show RULES

people say screaming crying etc as hyperbole but i have been. whisper-screaming so as not to be a dick to my neighbours. and crying. God!!!!

there is genuinely a lot of stuff i didn't know about. most crucial of which being. SO THAT’S HOW TWICE DIES, HUH? goddamn. i'm genuinely surprised i managed to not know that until now. fucking christ hawks. this is all so insane.

me pre s5, a fool: yeah i know people enjoy the lov a lot but it's just not my bag

me an hour ago, actively crying: he was,,,, lucky,,,

briefly managed to have a coherent thought among the hype and it's that i fucking adore twice talking about how the league is a place where they haven't given up on him for making mistakes to...hawks. who it seems has never ever been in a place where he could be anything less than perfect. and has been put under insane hideous pressure from such a young age. treated as disposable. sent into the lions den over and over. it's genuinely damning. also hawks basically having to live in a different genre to everyone else. he doesn't get a fun high school superhero adventure story, he gets a fucking dark espionage thriller. and he's 22.

hawks diversion almost over but i will say i had a brief moment right after he was first introduced where i was like hm they have kind of defanged (detaloned?) the drama of his double-bluffing a little early, bc they were very quick to reveal that no the number 2 hero is not ACTUALLY working for the league or meta army. but then they put best jeanist's probably fake corpse (jorpse) in a duffle bag and I've been incredibly along for the ride since then. this slaps.

and i had absolutely 0 idea about the entire arc of the league attacking the liberation army and again was not expecting it to be my bag bc I'm generally not a villain guy but...damn,,, and while i did kind of know the bare bones of shigaraki's backstory......christ alive

okay back to jaku screaming

the stuff i DID know about is hitting me like a truck. i knew full well aizawa gets hit with the quirk-erasing bullet and i was still yelling no no no at my screen as though that would change anything

hrg. i rly need the closure of finishing out this arc but also idk how much more hype i can take rn. i wish there was someone here to scream with me so i'm screaming at all of you instead. did you know this content that has existed for literal years at this point,,, is good

also god 😭😭😭😭 the kids and aizawa. "the worst thing would be losing mr aizawa" "please, sir, stay alive" 😭😭😭😭 aizawa thinking of eri as he CUTS HIS GODDAMN LEG OFF. I KNEW BUT FUCK. HE'S SO!!!!!

i can't believe people watched this without being spoiled and knowing everything that happens. i'd have passed away. i could never face this show without the full knowledge that aizawa makes it through okay bc i still kind of worry about him dying even when i know full well it doesn't happen. i love him so so much

[milkteaarttime]

First Meet (Pt.1)

This is the first meeting of my OC Latte with the Ghosts. A big shout out and thanks to @blacktacmopsi for allowing me to reference the MRE fic she wrote! It's my first ever fic; please be kind to me and enjoy (^ V ^ )!!!

————————————————————————

Hiking up the trail leading to the nearby makeshift military base was not how Latte expected to spend her weekends. Well, it's not like she had any expectations for the weekends. She's always called back to the hospital for work because of a lack of nurses after the ODIN event or because the unit is understaffed. Whenever she was promised a day off, her manager called her to get to the unit and help. So when the phone call came at 6 am, blasting her out of the peaceful sleep she was in. She was surprised that her manager tasked her not with coming into the unit to help but rather with a travel shift day. 

“Some special task force is coming to the base near us for a check-up. They said it was food poisoning related.” her manager said. 

“Isn’t it usually the RN or the nurse practitioner’s job to travel out of the hospital for checkups?” Latte asked a slight protest in her voice. 

She’d much rather stay in. Yesterday, she had a shit show of a shift, and her manager promised her she’d get today off. Although, her manager says that every time she's supposed to have a day off, only to call her anyway. So, unfortunately, Latte is used to her manager’s shenanigans by now. 

‘At least she's speaking nicer to me after I threatened to quit that one time,’ Latte thought, attempting to find the silver lining. 

“…We all did a lil’ vote and decided you should volunteer!” She said as if she was congratulating Latte for winning the lottery. “Since you’re so polite, we figured a little Canadian niceness would be better for these folks!” 

“Lauren… I don’t even have words right now.”

”Sorry, but there are only 2 RNs here today, and our nurse practitioner is sick. We can’t afford to send an RN out. Anyway, I sent you the details and the location of the base. Good luck!” 

Her manager then hung up faster than you can say, ‘Labour law violation.’ She let out a sigh before she began packing her essentials. “Stethoscope, portable pulse monitor, manual blood pressure cuff, a temporal thermometer scanner, penlight, notepad, and pen…So much for letting me have the day off, huh?” She grumbled as she listed each item being shoved in her sling bag. She looked at her comfortable room before sadly walking out, locking the door behind her.

“I think I'm almost there…” Latte mutters, looking up from her GPS and taking in her surroundings. The forest around her is a gorgeous green, dewdrops glistening in the beautiful early morning light. The lush vegetation and the crunch of gravel under her boots are a refreshing change from the narrow hallways and nose-stinging disinfectant-scented floors of the hospital unit. She was even able to see a chipmunk today. 

‘It has been a while since I could take a nice walk.’ Latte smiled, pulling down her surgical mask and inhaling the crisp morning air. A gentle breeze brushed against her face. ‘Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.’

She finally arrives at the temporary base after a rather pleasant 20-minute walk. She energetically greets the two soldiers standing guard at the entrance. Latte explains she was assigned to do nursing assessments for some soldiers here—something about a bad case of food poisoning. The guards exchange a glance, confusion and suspicion evident on their faces.

“Weren’t told anything of that sort. You don’t look like the usual nurse I’ve seen from the little hospital down the trail. Name?” The older-looking of the two soldiers chimes in sternly, narrowing his eyes at her. Taking aback by the sense of hostility from the soldiers, she quickly tried to explain,

”Uh…My name is Latte. I was sent here by—" She attempted to show them her ID and explain before being cut off. 

”Latte? Like the coffee? Look, Lady, If you are messing with us. It ain’t funny.” The soldiers begin eyeing her suspiciously. 

‘Jesus, they are not bullshiting about the security here!!’ Latte panics internally. She wasn’t sure what to do. The longer she stammers for an answer, the more suspicious the soldiers are of her. So far, any attempts at an explanation have been shut down. She wanted to say fuck it and go home, no call, no show, get fired, and maybe she won’t have to answer her inconsiderate manager’s calls, and won’t need to show up to the shitty unit the next day, and won’t need to work overtime without pay again and—

”Easy fellas, we asked for a nurse.” A different voice stuns her out of the little exhaustion-fueled spiral her mind was funnelling down. Her head whips at mach speed towards her saviour—no, saviours. She took in their appearance: an older man with short white hair followed by a man with no hair, but at least he's got a beard. The pair strolled up to where Latte was standing. The white-haired one gave her a reassuring smile before nodding to the soldiers guarding the gate,

“We called for the nurse. Some of our boys aren’t feeling too great. Sorry for the mix-up.” The soldiers guarding the gate backed off with a quick ‘yes commander,’ allowing the two men to lead Latte into the base. 

“Sorry, kid. Our men are just cautious. We can never be too careful with the feds still crawling around.” The older gentleman with white hair piped up after a little walking. The bald man behind Latte grunted in agreement. 

”Ah- Where are my manners? I’m Elias Walker, the commander of Task Force Stalkers.” Elias glanced towards Merrick. “And that's Merrick, my captain.” Merrick nods at Latte. 

"It's nice to meet you, commander and captain, um...my name is Latte, Latte Wong." She often feels a little embarrassed introducing herself. When her family first immigrated to Canada,  her mom saw the word 'Latte' on a quaint little local café's menu and decided it was cute enough for her two-year-old daughter. She wishes she received a regular English name like her little brother Viktor. He was lucky their mom didn't see his name on a café menu. Sometimes she wishes he received a dumbass name, too, so he could match her, like Americano or Muffin. She could go by her birth name, Shuxin, but that would mean countless butchering of the pronunciation. Plus, as stupid as 'Latte' may sound, this name is given to her by her late parents, and she's reluctant to let go of it. 

“Latte? A special name you got there.” Elias chuckled, “That a nickname?” 

“No, commander. My parents didn’t speak English, and my mother thought it was cute?” she answered, nervousness creeping up her back as she tightened her grip on her bag strap. 

“You got family here?” Elias spoke up once more as they approached a building with a smaller gate. While Merrick went up to press the buzzer and verify their Identities, Elias looked at her, waiting for her answer. 

“It’s just me and my little brother after ODIN, commander.” She responded honestly. Elias nodded knowingly at her, sympathy and perhaps empathy in his gaze. Before anything else can be said, the gates open, allowing the men and her to enter the building. 

The two of them led her into a large meeting room of sorts, two of the three tables pushed near each other, making a larger table on the left side of the room, multiple giant screens mounted to the wall in front of the larger table, the last table on the other side of the room. The men sat around the larger table, some donning different yet similarly designed masks. Some notable men were one seated with a skull mask with his eyes closed, one in a white-streaked black mask, another with his mask on the table in front of him, a man with a buzzed head and an interesting facial hair style sitting next to a dark blond that looked similar to him. The one in the black mask and painted white streaks looked up from his computer at the sound of the door opening. 

“Ah Commander, and Merrick, welcome back.” He said, amused, “That didn’t take long.” The other men quieted their chatters and looked at their leaders, waiting for orders or explanations. Latte filed into the room after them, hiding behind Merrick’s stature. “It was a quick walk, Kick. We said we would be back soon.” Elias responds to Kick before turning to address the rest of the group.

“Boys, after the review we sent back to DOD, the heads decided that a health checkup must be completed to ensure that no one has lingering side effects from eating those MREs.” As Elias began, the faces of the men around the table contorted into disgust and pain at the mention of said MREs. Elias shot Merrick a glance, and Merrick moved to the side, revealing Latte’s short form. With the spotlight suddenly cast on her, she can't help but feel a little out of place under the gazes of these elite soldiers. But when her eyes scanned across the room and landed on a familiar-looking face, the buzzed head, mutton chop facial hair… She was stuck staring at him for a while as she jogged her memories to recall where she had seen him before. 

“The head sent us a nurse from nearby,” Merrick commented, then looked at Latte, expecting her to introduce herself. Realizing that the attention was directed at her again, she snapped out of the impromptu staring contest she accidentally held with mutton chops. 

“Uh…Good morning everyone…My name is Latte. I was instructed to come here at the last minute by my manager Lauren. I am from the hospital—The small one just by the base.” Latte stammered through her introduction, feeling ridiculous once more about her name and praying that no one was secretly thinking, ‘What dumbass name is Latte?’ Or smirking under their masks. “I understand that usually a more experienced nurse or a higher calibre nurse would be the one to do out-of-site visits, but something must have come up on the unit!… So, I was sent. My manager didn’t explain why, but I will do my best to assess you guys.” Latte attempted to hide the shakiness of her voice and smiled reassuringly at the men in front of her. 

“So…Uh...Let's get started! If it’s okay, I will set up a little questioning and assessment booth at that table on the far side of the room.” She looked at Elias, waiting for his approval. 

“Sure.” Elias agreed, and before he could offer his help, Latte sprung into action, grabbing two extra chairs, hauling them to the unused table, and beginning to set up. Elias looked back at the group, “So, who wants to go first?” 

[zarkishere]

Pls.. Mire on the callander boys.. Pls.. I love the way u characferize them i NEEEDDDD more headcanons feom you🤩

HELLLL YEAHGJHFH YUIPPEEEE I LOVE YAPPING ABOUT THEM !!!

Mac nd Davey hcs time LETSGOOOO

i'm not sure i ever explained their scars in my character sheet soo...i'll explain those first :3 _______

- Neck -

back then, my hc was that they joined the gang because they were nearly hanged, but Dutch swooped in at the last second to save them, and ever since that they clung to him like sad puppies. I’ve changed my mind about how they joined a lot, I don't really have a real 'this is how they joined the gang' thought in my head rn sooo...i guess now I just think that scar comes from 'they're lil bitches, they've dodged hanging by a thread before for SURE' - Arms -

Davey has a scar on his left forearm that I just labeled 'burnt' which is kind of funny to me...he got it trying to sneak food from the pot too early and got spooked when someone called for him. He jerked his arm away and YEOCH!! dumb dumb idiot.

Mac's scar is from an explosion...dumb dumb idiot x2 - Legs -

Bro (Davey) got plenty of scars on his knees from falling as a kid. I imagine they were really energetic and probably went fishing along the rocky shore, leading to quite a few owchies.

The scar near his knee is from a gunshot wound; someone tried to take him out and shot him there to keep him from escaping (he's stupid and ran out of bullets). Luckily, Mac saved him before he could take a bullet to the forehead <3

then...the matching beartrap scars....they're just stupid that's all HASJHASJHAS <3 - Stomach -

Mac has a few on his lower stomach, cause uhmmm…someone really wanted him dead !! stabbed him a few times. it a miracle he lived, really.

__________ Other HC'S : -------------

Their parents weren't particularly abusive (in fact, they were quite lovely), but they were 1800's nuclear family, so you can imagine Mac and Davey got a good few good smacks every now and then. It's no surprise Mac has anger issues, given he's the older brother. He got it worse than Davey. Davey does not remember ever getting hit, or anything bad happening in fact, and since Mac refuses to tell him anything bad from their childhood, Davey isn't consciously aware about it. His unconscious knows, though. not the kind of thing you'd forget. Whenever Dutch raises his voice, the brothers can feel themselves grow tense..

Davey really loved his mom, like a lot. Not a momma's boy, but she always patched him up (trouble child lol) and spent time with him whenever Mac left with their dad... He's scared of thinking of her, 'cause what if he's forgotten her face? her voice?

Mac (used to) love his dad! spent all the time he could with him, and since Mr.Callander REALLY wanted Mac to be just like him, he taught Mac everything he could. What a shame that Mac became such a disappointment, no? He looks at himself in the mirror and sees his father, telling him he'd better keep himself in line.

Mac and Davey really liked fishing--not with a fishing pole, but with nets! they used to do so as kids, this tiny river that only really had smaller fish...

Davey really likes getting the bridge of his nose caressed. He NEVER told anyone, since it's really embarrassing, but...Mac knows. Of course he does, he's the one that figured it out. Davey was just a little baby when he did. Cute little baby David Callander sleeping on a rug, Mac sitting right next to him softly caressing his nose with the pad of his index finger.... Davey doesn't remember that, but Mac could swear it happened just yesterday.

They lived on the streets since their parents died, robbing and fighting folk until they were nearing their 26th birthday, and they managed to escape Scotland (they were already very wanted men). They sneaked on a boat, unaware of where it was headed, just hoping it'd be better than their old home... Mac still grieves their parents old house, even if they never went near it again after they died.

Since the brothers lived on economy of war pretty much their whole life, they're REALLY cheap about most things...they're the kind of people to check out 10 shops just to see which one's the cheapest. That is if they choose to pay at all...

_____

Alright that's all HASHJKASHJAS i have more but i thought this was long enough :) i love them so much yippeee I MISS THEMMM NOOOOOO (blows up)

[death-in-a-handbasket]

I swear to myself I am done making idv ocs,,,,, but I have an obsession with character design & making ocs and here I am AGAIN with my next one so I can build a nice big story where all my ocs are definitely happy ٩( ᐛ )و

He is finally the 'staff are a part of the manor' concept you inspired me with,,, hes the key holder ,,has the key to every room in the manor and is just kinda there in the background of everything,,, he brings that 'fading away into the flowers' vibe to the function that the haters just can't understand yknoe

I swear I don't abandon my original ocs they are all very loved and I'm trying to stop this creation addiction now💯

His name is Lavinia (or Vinnie) but he doesn't really share his name aside from theoretically some of the other workers? Raghhh,, sorry it's late by me so this is probably senseless rambling. I think he'd get along somewhat well with your character staff (I think that's the. Only way you've reffered to them,,, idk I cannot remember rn I'm sorry I need to go sleep, the one with luca)

He's not really shipped w anyone because he's very averse to most relationships in any way but,, yea

I enjoy him greatly !! he's rather solemn and gorgeous, I fuck with this. ALSO KEYMASTER JOB IS SO BALLER >>> I approve 10/10 he is canon 2 me. I'm imagining anyone who has been accidentally locked out of their room damn near falling over in surprise as this guy manifests next to them like he spawned out of the floral wallpaper and asking very morosely if they need some help. he just pulls an absolutely massive ring of keys out of his pocket and as he's unlocking their door for them they ask very nervously how he manages to keep track of all of them but when they look back he's fucking gone

also don't worry about relentlessly making ocs, I do the same thing, I love making self inserts and I have a shitload of fandom independent ocs but I fear I don't attend to them often enough </3 I am an absent father for sure I fear

as for staff, don't worry, they don't have a name, staff IS their only name, that's the only one they give out to people and they stubbornly refuse to give themselves a name or have anyone else give them one. they have a complex of sorts surrounding not existing, where because of their status as a non-human and their deep seated feeling of mundanity they consider themself not applicable to the title of being real

him and luca have a whole dynamic surrounding names that I'll put below the cut if you wanna read :0 !

okay. okay. so.

their dynamic to start involves staff trying to keep luca at a distance and luca trying to learn more about them and their non-human design as is his curious nature, thus they have a stubborn vs stubborn type feud that isn't really addressed as a feud but is there nonetheless

staff calls luca by his last name to enforce a sort of social distance and hold that divide of human vs non human, they are nameless and he is not, it’s also meant to hold him at an emotional distance because to use his first name would imply closeness. staff enforces this distance this because all they know as their identity is being separate from the manor guests they serve--further yet, sometimes when they do it it’s out of rudeness and to deflect him from them and sometimes it’s more out of self destruction than anything, such is the refusal to acknowledge one’s own being as worthy of humanity

on the other end of the situation it is a double edged sword of sorts for luca, being called by his last name has become strange to him as it’s been a long time since any part of his name has been spoken with even the slightest air of politeness, after being in prison it feels good to be referred to by any name at all, especially without ardent malice and disgust. however he’s aware of the separation they are creating which stings a little because he really would pay to hear them call him by his first name, even once would be pleasant. plus being called by his last name solely makes him feel a bit like his father, which stings in its own right,,,,,,he has mixed feelings on his last name for this reason

circling back once more, staff prefers not being referred to at all because it enforces the idea that they are in fact nothing, and while being called staff is a vague compromise of sorts, they are still off put by being given any title at all, not just for the humanity implication, but for the strange feeling that not referred to at all feels more comfortable and in tune with who they are (non-existence complex aside) than any name they could possibly have, such is the indecision of someone struggling to decide whether to be real or not

luca struggles in both situations, both options feel degrading to him, especially in the eyes of someone who has felt degraded and sub-human while in prison, to place someone in the category of less than human makes him feel oddly guilty despite the fact that he’s not the one enforcing this standard

he still finds it degrading to see them as nothing, names are very very important between these two and their choices of which moments they decide to address each other has its own subtext to it

that's all !! have a good day :33

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

Okay first of all, I like that your ask-box is called briefkasten! And then for the thingy

🍓🧃🔪🐚🕯️

endlich!!!!! wird es gewürdigt!!!!!! danke dir djkdaj also i love that you call it the thingy. see, that's why your way of speaking reminds me of my sister

🍓: how did you get into writing fanfiction?

once upon a time, there was wenzhou.

i never meant to write fanfiction, tbh. fanfiction was my path back to ,, being more passionate about characters, i guess? at the time, i hadn't written anything in years (original work) and i felt way better since making the decision of setting down the pen.

but then. an idea entered my brain. and it wouldn't leave me alone. and i was like: why not????

wellllll. i've regretted that decision more than once since then. i still do, even now. but writing fanfiction has also ,, paved the way to being an active part of fandom and carving out my own niche, i guess?? to being creative again. and, it's true that i've come to rediscover my love for it (writing in general). the way it is now, i enjoy it. but. i mean. sometimes i wish i could travel back in time and . change things

writing is so . consuming. if you know what i mean. it's only been, what, half a year? since i learned to set clear boundaries AND respect them. i used to sacrifice myself for writing, and hated it at the same time, but i couldn't stop either. it was compulsive. just thinking about that makes me want to peel my own skin off brrr

🧃: share some personal lore you never posted about before

hmmmm. i mentioned more than once that i adore horsies, but did you know i learned to do gymnastics on a horse?? in full gallop!! hah! the only thing i never managed was to get into the saddle without help. they're so fucking tall. i'm dreaming of learning to spring up on a horse while it's in full gallop, without a saddle or anything. that would be so cool

🔪: what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

du fragst mich Sachen!!!!!!!! woher soll ich das denn noch wissen shjhsadjhdjsah hast du ne Ahnung, wie lange ich schon im kreativen Schreiben tätig bin ajshjhdsj die richtig weirden Sachen hab ich zu meiner Zeit des original writing geresearched, i guess. zurzeit researche ich nur respektable (ehem) historische Fakten und kulturelle Aspekte.

i mean. i guess i could say that i educated myself on male sexuality and The Penis and such, but that's probably only something i feel weird about because i'm not mature enough. but it's, like, the only thing i can think of rn. god, maybe i'm really boring.

ich wette, mir fällts ein, sobald ich das hier gepostet habe!!!!! wollen wir wetten!!!!

🐚: do you like or dislike surprises?

there are two answers to this question. i love surprises because i love discovery, and a surprise is a positive discovery. but. i have the emotional landscape, worries, and reactonary speed of a trapped prey animal

🕯️: on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

12. because!!!! gonna pharaphrase @aiyexayen who said something along those lines in the tags once: it's about cleaning up what's chaotic and messy and making something cool and shiny out of it.

i used to think that drafting is my most favourite part of writing. drafting is a lot like oral storytelling when you're a pantser, and oral storytelling is where my love for creating stories comes from. but it's still a different medium after all, and i've changed too. revising is a lot like ,, using the material you've lovingly gathered and building something cool out of it

truth or dare ask game for writers! (don't mind double answering!)